


Breathe

by blueberrynewt



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Gen, Hugh | Third of Five Lives, elnor is having a lot of feelings, implied potential hughnor, nanoprobes save the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrynewt/pseuds/blueberrynewt
Summary: By all the rules Elnor knows, Hugh is dead. But the Borg define death differently.
Relationships: Elnor & Hugh | Third of Five, Elnor & Hugh | Third of Five & Seven of Nine, Elnor & Seven of Nine
Comments: 20
Kudos: 77





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> hello here is my contribution to the body of Hugh Lives fics. whatever happens in canon, Hugh will live on.
> 
> the method Seven uses to bring him back is adapted from the VOY episode where she and the Doctor bring Neelix back to life. i'm sure it's medically implausible for several reasons, but who cares?

“Where is Hugh?”

Elnor swallowed. He’d seen death, too much of it. He’d killed many, and grieved each one as if they were his own kin. Raised by the Qowat Milat in the Way of Absolute Candor, he was used to saying what was true.

Oh, but some truths were so hard to tell. Some truths hurt so much.

“He was struck down,” Elnor said, after too long a pause. “I failed to protect him.” He could weep now, if only there were time for tears. He could hold onto this grim, dangerous, noble woman he hardly knew, and weep for a death he did not do enough to prevent. “I am sorry,” he added, quietly. It was a truth, but not the full truth. The full extent of his sorrow, his regret, could not be put into words.

Seven’s eyes widened slightly as he spoke. Her hand shifted on her phaser, tensing. Her breath stopped for an instant before she snapped, “Take me to him.”

He watched her eyes and nodded. “This way.” Time was short, but Elnor would not stand between Seven and her grief. She knew the stakes as well as he did. Maybe better.

He hung back when they approached Hugh’s body, lying too still on the floor. There hadn’t been time to move him, to pay respects. He lay cold and white on the dark floor, a pool of blood around his throat. Elnor felt raw at the sight. He hadn’t had time to know Hugh, had barely had a conversation with him, but Elnor was an excellent judge of character. He knew who was worthy of his love, and he had loved Hugh.

Seven rushed to Hugh and dropped to her knees at his side. Her hands were at his neck, probing, pressing. There was a controlled haste to her movements that made Elnor want to look away. He saw in her manner that she believed Hugh could be saved. But Elnor knew death.

“Help me carry him.”

Elnor didn’t move. “There’s nothing we can do,” he said. Another painful truth. “It’s too late.”

“It is _not_ too late.” Seven sounded on the edge of desperate, but far from hysterical. As she talked, she ripped a piece of fabric from her own shirt and used it to stanch the slow ooze of blood out of Hugh’s neck. “My nanoprobes can repair the tissue damage, but he’s lost too much blood. We need to get him to a medical facility.”

“You can —” He cut himself off mid-sentence. If Seven said she could save him, Elnor had to believe her. He wanted so much to believe her. “I think I saw an infirmary on this level.”

“I know where it is. Take his feet.” Seven stood by Hugh’s head — his waxen face, his blank, mismatched eyes — and holstered her phaser so she could slide both hands under Hugh’s shoulders. Elnor followed, grasping Hugh’s ankles. Now all of their hands were occupied. If they were attacked again, they could lose precious moments setting Hugh down and reaching their weapons. Elnor knew he was a masterful fighter, and Seven was clearly adept with her phaser, but he wasn’t certain they could hold off another attack if they started from such a disadvantage. 

They would have to trust to luck, then. He offered a silent prayer for their lives.

Luck, for once, served them. The corridors seemed deserted, and even Elnor’s sensitive hearing could not pick up any movement nearby. The silence made him nervous.

“They’re up to something,” said Seven, echoing Elnor’s thoughts as they rounded a corner. Hugh dangled between them, arms flopping, fingertips brushing the floor with each step. Seven stepped wide around the corner to avoid knocking Hugh’s elbow into the wall. “They’re only leaving us alone because they have something else planned. Take this left.”

Elnor did as he was told, glancing behind him to see the turn. He looked back at Seven. “How do you know where the infirmary is? Have you been here before?”

“All Borg cubes have the same design.” She maneuvered Hugh’s head with care, cradling it as best she could between her elbows. “The Borg don’t have infirmaries, but they do have nurseries. Maturation chambers. They would be easy to convert to infirmaries. Through this door,” she added, and Elnor turned smoothly to find himself in the infirmary. The cots were all empty, and they hoisted Hugh onto the nearest one.

 _She remembers_ , Elnor thought, studying Seven as she arranged Hugh’s arms and started digging through a cabinet. _Hugh remembers, too. It must be strange, to remember being something you’re not._ Elnor had his own share of painful memories, but had never been anyone but himself. How would it feel, not to be in control of his own body and mind? He could not imagine it.

Seven was by Hugh’s head, her hands flying. Elnor tracked her movements closely, trying to understand. First, she found a dermal regenerator and used it to seal the skin on Hugh’s neck, stopping the flow of blood. The next moment, she had a hypospray in one hand and depressed it as she rolled up her other sleeve, then drew a small volume of blood into the vial. Glancing up at Elnor as she slotted the vial into a port on the computer console, she jerked her chin at the cupboard behind him. “Look for a bag of artificial blood,” she directed. “And an IV tube.”

Elnor turned and started sorting through cabinets. Their contents were neatly organized, and he was momentarily grateful for ruthless Romulan discipline. It was less than a minute before he held both items in his hands, and he went to Seven, holding them out for approval.

“Good.” She was inputting something into the computer, fingers flying over the console. Her brow was creased in concentration, her jaw stiff. “Hook it up. There are directions on the back of the bag.”

Elnor’s hands were steadier than his heart as he followed the instructions printed on the bag of blood. His medical training was limited to first aid, and he understood with some discomfort that he was more at ease taking lives than saving them. Bodies were so fragile, easy to break. Mending them was much more difficult.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seven finish her work on the computer, replace the vial of her own blood into the hypospray, and inject it into the side of Hugh’s neck. He supposed it was for the nanoprobes, and wondered how long they would take to work. How long could Hugh survive like this, even with Borg technology on their side? Elnor didn’t know. The Borg may have had a different definition of death, but they weren’t immortal.

“Can you find a vein?” Seven asked, without looking up. She was working by Hugh’s head now, arranging some kind of apparatus Elnor didn’t recognize. He focused his attention on Hugh’s arm and turned it over to examine the pale skin of his inner forearm. The feel of dead flesh in his hands made Elnor clench his teeth. He found a vein and inserted the IV needle, forcing his fingers not to tremble. No blood welled up around the needle.

“I’m setting up a neuroelectric iso-pulse,” Seven explained as she input commands into the machine caging Hugh’s head. “If we’re lucky, the pulse will restore his brain function while the nanoprobes repair his tissue and the artificial blood restores his cardiovascular function.”

“If we’re lucky?” Elnor repeated. His throat felt dry.

Seven met his gaze. “Ideally, I would run more tests before trying this procedure. We don’t have time to be careful. I don’t know if it will work.”

Elnor nodded, and watched Hugh’s lifeless form. Could it really be restored so easily? Could this cold, empty thing become Hugh again, full of warmth? It struck him as incredible.

“Now.” Seven pressed a button and the cage around Hugh’s head crackled with light. Hugh’s body gave a great jolt, then settled to stillness again as the machine beeped and blinked. A nearby computer screen flashed incomprehensible readouts at them.

“His neural activity is rising,” Seven said, eyes on the computer screen. She glanced back at Hugh, then at Elnor. “We don’t have time to see if it works. If he lives, we’ll find him later. We have to go.”

“What if the Romulans find him first?” Elnor asked, hurrying to follow as Seven strode out the door and down the corridor, opposite from the way they’d come. “If they get to him before he’s fully recovered —”

“We’ll just have to make sure we keep them busy,” Seven said grimly, and drew her phaser.

***

“For someone who’s supposed to follow the Way of Absolute Candor,” Seven remarked as they walked, “you’ve been awfully quiet.”

Elnor glanced at her. She looked straight ahead, walking quickly. “There are times when too much truth can be a distraction. Part of the Way of Absolute Candor is understanding when truth must be withheld, for a time.”

“Really.” Seven half-smiled, still without looking at him. “Guess you’ve got some catching up to do, then. What’s on your mind?”

Elnor walked a few paces in silence. “I wonder,” he said, “what it’s like to have a past that doesn’t belong to you.”

Seven did spare him a glance then — a brief one. “It’s a nightmare,” she said. “It’s being made of two people, with different sets of rules, trying to navigate the world in opposite ways. Having to choose every moment whether to be a monster or a person. Be glad you don’t have to live with that.”

“How well do you know Hugh?”

“We’ve worked together before.” Her voice betrayed little, but Elnor was sure he detected a note of feeling in it. “Not many ex-Borg have managed to get anywhere in life. He and I are among the few who are actively working for our people. Our methods are different, but we often share a common goal.”

They slipped into a narrow corridor, and Elnor had to follow a pace behind Seven. “I don’t have a family,” he told her. “I was raised by the Qowat Milat since I was a young child. Whenever a member of the order is in danger, I fear for them as if they were my family. Even the ones I don’t know well. When they die, I feel I have lost a part of my soul.”

Seven drew a long breath and let it out. “Yes.”

***

Later, when the Artifact was free of the Zhat Vash and headed for the nearest transwarp conduit, Elnor finally had time to return to the infirmary. Seven had to remain in the Queencell to navigate, but she tossed him a comm so they could stay in contact.

Hugh lay quite still on the biobed, and for an instant, all Elnor’s fear and despair threatened to swallow him up. It hadn’t worked, something had gone wrong, he was dead all over again and Elnor couldn’t bear it, it was too much —

He was breathing.

Hugh was breathing, shallow and uneven, and Elnor found that he could breathe again, too. He rushed to the beside, taking in Hugh’s condition as he pressed the comm. “Elnor to Seven of Nine.”

“I’m here,” came Seven’s voice, weary but alert. “How is he?”

“Alive,” Elnor said. “He’s breathing. He’s — he’s very pale, though. And —” his eyes fell on Hugh’s neck “— sort of. Inflamed? It looks unpleasant.”

“Look at the monitor,” Seven instructed. “Tell me what his vitals look like.”

Elnor did his best to describe what the monitor was displaying, though he couldn’t make much sense of the wiggling lines and sliding arrows himself. It seemed to mean something to Seven, though, because she let out a strained breath and said, “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“What?”

She paused. “Hugh was liberated from the Collective before I was. The nanoprobes in his bloodstream are less advanced than mine — an older model, you might say. That’s why I had to use mine to help him; his own nanoprobes aren’t capable of the rapid tissue repair that mine are. But they are programmed to defend his body against infection. They’ll attack any alien substance introduced into the bloodstream.” She sighed. “I had hoped my nanoprobes would be similar enough to pass inspection, but it doesn’t look like that’s the case.”

Elnor looked back to Hugh’s neck, swollen and reddish where the introduced nanoprobes were presumably concentrated. “It’s an allergic reaction,” he realized. “His own nanoprobes are acting like antibodies.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Seven sounded distracted, and Elnor guessed she was multitasking — trying to concentrate on piloting the ship while also worrying about Hugh.

Hugh gave a choked gasp. Elnor put a hand on his shoulder as Hugh twitched and started to sputter. “I think he can’t breathe.”

“Anaphylaxis,” Seven said shortly. “His throat must be swelling up. Find some epinephrine to give him.”

“Epinephrine?” Elnor opened the nearest drawer and scanned it with a glance.

“Adrenaline. As fast as you can.”

“Right. Adrenaline.” Elnor went through several more drawers before he found what he was looking for. He took too long loading it into the hypospray — his fingers fumbled, and he put it in the wrong way round at first. He was horribly out of his depth.

But it worked. Nearly as soon as the adrenaline was in his bloodstream, Hugh’s symptoms started to subside. His breathing evened out and deepened, and before long, he seemed to be resting comfortably. His neck was still red and puffy, but Seven said there wasn’t much to be done about that but wait for the nanoprobes to stop fighting one another. So Elnor sat down, another dose of adrenaline close at hand in case Hugh went into anaphylaxis again, and allowed himself to relax.

 _He’s alive,_ he thought again, clenching his hands in his lap. _He will live._ He closed his eyes and breathed through the sea of emotions that threatened to drown him. “I did not know I could feel so much hope and so much fear at the same time,” he said aloud. “It’s very tiring.”

***

Several hours passed before Hugh began to wake up. Elnor was on the edge of sleep himself, head drooping as he kept his vigil in the chair by Hugh’s bedside. He jerked awake at a slight sound from Hugh — a quiet grunt, as consciousness took hold.

Elnor was on his feet at once, standing by Hugh’s bedside and blinking sleep from his eyes. He lifted one hand, couldn’t decide where to put it, and eventually settled for resting it on Hugh’s elbow. Hugh coughed a little, and his eyes came into focus.

“Elnor?” Hugh croaked. He tried to clear his throat, and coughed some more. “Where — what happened?”

Elnor tapped his comm. “Elnor to Seven,” he said into it. “He’s awake.” Then, examining Hugh’s face, he took a deep breath. “You died.”

When he had explained their situation as well as he could, Elnor sank back into the chair, shuffling it a little closer to Hugh. Hugh was quiet for a few seconds, then said in a hoarse voice, “You saved my life.”

Tears began to prickle at the corners of Elnor’s eyes, hot and itchy. Perhaps it was the relief at seeing Hugh awake and himself, he thought. He did not try to fight them. “Seven saved your life,” he corrected.

“Both of you did.” Hugh breathed deeply, and winced. “Thank you.”

The tears were coming out now. Elnor let them roll down his cheeks, and clenched his arms around his belly. “I failed you,” he said. It was the thought that had been consuming him ever since Hugh fell, the one that would not leave him. “I swore to protect you. I was supposed to — to —” He broke off. “I am filled with shame,” he said, the last word a sob. He could not meet Hugh’s eyes. The inside of his head looked red and grey, and Elnor felt he was collapsing in on himself.

“Elnor,” Hugh said, and his soft, hoarse voice cut through the tangle of Elnor’s emotions. “You didn’t fail. I’m alive. You saved me. Look at me.”

Elnor looked up slowly, but he couldn’t bear the warmth in Hugh’s gaze, and looked at the floor again. “You died,” he repeated. “I was supposed to keep that from happening.”

Hugh sighed. “All right. Let’s say you did fail.” He was quiet for a moment. “Everybody fails, Elnor. You can’t save everyone. There are some people you just can’t help.” Elnor dared to look up again, and this time, he managed to hold Hugh’s gaze. “Some causes really are lost.”

Elnor swallowed painfully. The flow of tears was ebbing, and he wiped his face with his sleeve. He glanced at the monitor, but it was still gibberish to him, so he looked back at Hugh. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the inflamed side of Hugh’s neck. “You shouldn’t be talking. It must hurt still.”

Hugh gave a faint smile. “It’s not so bad.”

Then the tears were back, and Elnor hunched forward. One hand clutching empty space between his eyes, he leaned forward until his head was on Hugh’s chest, and let it lie there. He squeezed his eyes shut, and his hand touched the fabric of Hugh’s shirt. He could barely breathe.

After a few moments, he felt a hand come to rest on the back of his head, and let out a long, shuddering breath. His head rose and fell with Hugh’s breathing, now strong and steady. He could hear the rhythm of Hugh’s heart under his ear, and let the sound of the pulse ground him. It would be okay. Hugh was alive, he was himself, and he was going to stay that way. It was all going to be okay.

Seven found them like that, as soon as she had time to leave her post at the Queencell and come to see Hugh. Elnor was fast asleep, curled over the side of Hugh’s bed, one hand splayed on Hugh’s chest. Hugh was dozing too, his hand still resting on Elnor’s hair.

Hugh blinked awake as Seven watched them, and met her gaze. A soft smile flickered across his face. Seven smiled back.


End file.
